#questionable writing

You know I’ve seen a slight pattern between certain Superman-related stories whereby it’s been implied or outright stated that Clark Kent and Lex Luthor not only both grew up together/both lived in Smallville, but at times were actual close friends there too, yet Lex is beaten and abused (possibly at random) by his horrendous father/parents and Clark, even while dressed as Superboy...does nothing to stop it...? 

I don’t know if it’s a case of me misunderstanding the situations or if Clark just always thought there was nothing he could do about it; however, the idea that he literally heard Lex in pain as he was tormented everyday, but refused to help him in anyway—refused to lift a finger for him or do literally anything at all for Lex when Lex was a child—is such a deeply disturbing one for me (made worse when you consider how many other cases like this involving other children that Clark may have ignored the plight of over the years) that it pushes me to put their entire relationship in the stories where it happens, under the microscope. 

In a way, it could be argued that Clark inadvertently helped instigate Lex’s narcissistic, cynical and (sometimes self-) destructive ways. After all, if not even the angelic, protector-of-all that was Superboy would come to his rescue...then who would? And what’s stopping that protector from failing other children the world over? Why even stop at extreme child abuse? Why not let everything but the most destructive of acts go unpunished, huh, Superman? (Keep in mind that I’m not the only one who has taken note of this probably-accidental flaw of Superman’s morality/character.)

Even as recently as one of the recent issues of Action Comics from this year, Lex berates Superman for not revealing his identity to him which Lex claimed would have helped him by making him feel less alone. I interpreted that to be a reference to how a lot of versions of Lex grew up feeling ‘like an alien’ on their own planet, but come to think of it, what if Lex was implying in that moment of the comic that he was abused for being different/extremely intelligent? I don’t think there’s any main-storyline version of Lex from the past 20 - 35 years that hasn’t been horribly mistreated by their parents so it’s safe to assume that he was referencing this in particular, if not a combination of it and the aforementioned and or other things too, I reckon.

And you know what answer Clark gives after Lex calls him out on that? None!  He doesn’t even give an explanation! Is it because he doesn’t think Lex deserves one, or that they both know that’s just the excuse Lex is giving for his continued sickening actions? Or...could it be because Clark himself doesn’t know why he (when he was admittedly younger and more vulnerable himself, though never to the point of human weakness) abandoned Lex to his parents’ cruelty and expected the poor boy to fend for himself? If Clark knew what was going on then why didn’t he protect Lex when they were children? Why didn’t he at least fly up to Lionel as Superboy and yell at him to never hurt Lex again or else? Why didn’t he do anything? Why, why, WHY?

Imagine how great it would be for Lex Luthor’s and especially Clark’s characters, to finally have questions like this answered? Is Superman as super as we thought he was? Does he feel remorse for not being there for his childhood friend when Lex needed him most? I’m sorry but, you can’t just have Superman hear child abuse and do nothing about it without an explanation, writers! I honestly think this is another example of a goldmine of potentially good, compelling story-telling that DC Comics could easily tap into and utilize very well but of course, probably won’t. 

So sorry for this late response. And thank you for your ask! Yes I do really like her and hope her fandom only keeps growing, because she deserves it. I agree that she did what she felt was the best she could do with what she had, which is leagues above what everyone else around her was doing. She's had to battle not just enemies in universe, but enemies outside of universe that wished to see her shrivel. Fandom is a given, but even some of the show's writers had a misplaced grudge against her.

She could easily be read as a tragic character no doubt, but I prefer to see her as a girl with a whole life ahead of her; someone who after the events of the first series would have much to explore and be educated about. Someone that can expose so much about the people from her past, present and future and have a life outside of their prejudice and corrosiveness, a life beyond that. A girl and soon-to-be woman who went through hardship, but doesn't have to be solely defined by it or allow it to trample her progress toward self-actualization. Even if it were to take her some time to reach it.

tws: emesis, blood, torture, brief mentions of animal death, dehumanization.

this is pseudo’s pov!

. . .

Henrik is strung up in the middle of the room, arms stretched above his head to a chain on the ceiling. His tip toes keep him from falling, putting all his weight on his shoulders.

Shirtless, muzzled, and sweating. Henrik glares at me, at the camera, and at the audience.

It’s already entertaining, and the stream has only just started.

“I want him to be whipped like you said before,” I say, reciting the words I see on the livestream. They’ve donated 500 krone.

Cheap. “I’ll be generous, two lashes for you, uh.....” — I look closer at the screen, squinting my eyes. — “Poppyseed.”

While I collect my cat o’ nine tails, I hear the donation chime.

“Twelve lashes. Blades attached to the ends.”

10,000 krone has been donated, by another user.

Oh, Skies. Who knew humans could be so disgusting? Well, I knew. Obviously. I almost envy Henrik, though. How curious to be in his position. What would they do to me?

“There we go! That’s much better.”

I turn to Henrik, a wide smile across my face. It’s real this time, but he can’t see it with the mask I wear. Still my eyes crinkle, and if Henrik wasn’t muzzled, I know he’d spit at me. Swear at the people watching. Now all he can do is growl, glare, think nasty, bad bad things! It’s cute, Puppy.

I approach him with the cat o’ nine in hand, something he hasn’t been exposed to before. My fingers shake from the anticipation, will the first lash make him scream, or the seventh? Will he bite down in that muzzle? Would he beg if he wasn’t wearing it?

No, no, I’m getting too excited. Those are Pink’s traits. I have to work harder to break my Puppy.

Usually I’d hit his back, but I want to see his face for the first lash. I reel my arm back, whipping Henrik’s abdomen with the cat o’ nine. His eyes close tight and he hollers, but it’s soon bit back to growls and pants.

Thirteen more lashes hit his body. A few more on his tummy, his chest, but I turn him round and begin on his back on the fourth lash.

His screams make it worth while not to see his face. I was right. It was the seventh.

Turning him around, there are tears falling from his eyes. He’s too in pain to think about them, too angry, too hurt, so I get to relish all of them. My watchers get to relish all of them.

I take a step forward, moving the whip as if I were to hit him once more.

He hides his face, and whimpers. An instinct reaction I know he regrets as soon as it happens.

The pure, unadulterated joy that comes from my chest. Oh Puppy. Oh, Puppy! Is that red in your face embarrassment or pain? Is that flutter in your chest fear or anger?

I feel a little high, really. It’s not hard to please me, not hard to make me smile when you’re bleeding like a rat who got stuck between a train and the train tracks. A rare sight to see from Henrik is a cower, and I can feel the energy from the livestream feeling just the same as I do. It’s electrifying.

I want more. The feeling was here but it’s already vanishing.

I lash him once more, just to hear him scream. Then I raise my shoe and kick him, hard, in the same places I whipped his stomach.

He’s lost his breath. Henrik gags, and soon after, theres vomit dripping from the muzzle.

I chuckle at him. What a pitiful mess I’ve made this man. It’s a good accomplishment on my part, but he still isn’t broken yet.

The donation chimes again. “Please wipe his face. Please take the muzzle off,” paired with 15 krone, from a user named Firefly.

A smile creeps onto my lips. I wonder if my eyes give it away. “I’ll tell you what, Firefly,” I sink closer to the screen, staring straight into the camera. I know exactly who I’m looking at. “I’ll take it off just to wipe his face, let him breathe, but it goes right back on. Puppy needs it.”

I turn back to see Henrik shaking, glaring at me with ice in his eyes. Oh, if looks could kill...

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Day 1 - Awakening

Rating: K+

Words: 350*

Game: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

Summary: Hidden away in the Shrine of Resurrection, the hero awakes. Where is he? Who is he? He can’t seem to recall...

To start this off, I want to make it clear that I absolutely love Katara as a character. I think she’s amazing, complex, and interesting.

Yet I find the way the narrative of ATLA frames her to be intensely problematic.  Much more under the cut: